The Sketchbook
by Nikki Flinn
Summary: Pansy finds a sketchook one afternoon. There's nothing too exciting about it. No name or anything to identify the artist. The only odd thing is, the pictures... are of her. PansyNeville, slight GinnyDraco
1. Chapter 1

The Sketch Book

The sketch book was closed, lying on the black walnut endtable, its dark blue cover unadorned. On any other day, at any other time, Pansy Parkinson might have ignored it.

But Pansy had had a bad day. She needed a distraction.

She flipped the book open, marginally intent on locating a name. The nobel thing would have been to return it, but Pansy wasn't feeling too nobel right now, so she might forget nobility and use this to turn a profit. Especially if it was some pervert who was drawing fantasy pictures of his professors naked.

Then again, maybe not, she thought as a censored version of Professor Snape entered her mind. She shuddered.

But even so, curiousity was stronger than preservation of mental sanity.

She flipped past the blank information sheet that most books like this had. Then she froze. The first page was filled with sketches...

Of her.

She slammed the book shut and looked around the common room. This had to be a joke, pull one on Pansy day or something.

But the common room was empty.

She hestitated a moment more then her cat was killed and she opened to where she was. It was her. The pictures were random, the kind of thing she did at least five times a day. Biting her nails, tugging at her lower lip the way she did when she was concentrating. Tucking her hair behind her ear.

There were three pages of the sketches. Some were just her eyes or her lips while others were almost complete works of art. Her sitting on a stool at the Three broomsticks. Her on the floor reaching for a fallen quill.

But the one that really sent shivers down her spine was the one of her in the act of reaching under her collar to tug at the celtic cross her mother had given her years ago.

She closed the book and looked into space for a few moments. Who could have done this? Draco? No. The boy was gorgeous as sin, but he lacked the artistic talent of a three year old. Ok, maybe it wasn't that bad, but he was no where near this unknown artist's calibre.

Blaise? Again, no. Blaise was a decent artist but he had a specific style and Pansy could recognize it.

She opened the book again and found the next page. It was her again, but this time she was dressed as she had been for Yule ball. But there were subtle differences. Her hair wasn't in the style that Leanne Eldest had sworn was the latest fad, but rather falling from a half pony tail that accentuated her face rather than hid it. She was wearing the off the shoulder elegant dress that her mother had gotten from Italy, but the gaudy diamond necklace Draco had given her to wear with it was gone, replaced by her simple cross.

Pansy smiled slightly.

The smile disappeared when she saw the next page.

It was filled with sketches. But this time they weren't of her.

They were of Ginny Weasley.

Pansy silently fumed. Ugh! How could any one even compare her to that infidel! Sure Draco not so secretly lusted after the scarlet haired girl, but there was no accounting for bad taste. (Pansy conveiently forgot she had dated him for a while.)

Pansy examined the pictures, determined to see what was so great about the Gryffindor. Once again, sketches and almost full compositions mixed together. Ginny biting her hair. Wrapping a strand around her fingers. raising an eyebrow at the viewer. Then the full scale. Ginny sitting comfortably by a wall or something. Ginny stretching and looking at the artist.

Pansy felt a surge of irrational jealousy. She didn't like to share.

She flipped the page and almost admitted defeat. There was a full page drawing of Ginny at Yule Ball. Her hair was curled elegantly and fell below her shoulders. She was wearing a floor length dress with celtic belt and deep, embroidered neckline, with no sleves.

Pansy was still staring at it when Blaise came into the common room.

"Hey! Glad you found that."

Pansy looked up, surprised. Draco followed Blaise and looked at the picture over Pansy's shoulder.

"What do you mean?" Pansy demanded. Draco flipped past the Ginny picture, revealing more sketches of Pansy and Ginny, then back to the Ginny picture.

"I found that after class today and must have left it in here. I meant to give it to Snape in detention so he could ask who's it was, but I lost it."

"That's rather embarrasing for who ever lost it don't you think?" Pansy sniped then felt her cheeks flare up.

"Maybe. Why should you care?"

Pansy skillfully evaded his eyes. "Never you mind. Just because I'm feeling altruistic, doesn't mean you should concern yourself."

Blaise shrugged and dropped it. Draco straighted and, muttering something about how it looked nothing like her, stalked off.

(A/N: dedicated to periwinkle-blue who wanted to read a Pansy Neville.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

He wasn't panicking. Not really. Just because he couldn't find it. That was no reason to panic. None at all.

Just because he had lost his sketch book. No reason at all. Just because he had lost the axis on which his world turned, not important.Just because Merlin only knew who could have found it. Not a big deal. Just because either of them could have found it...

He looked nervously around the Gryffindor table at the faces there. Who could have found it?

He hadn't realized he had left it in class untila little after dinner was over last night. His favorite past time was drawing to releive the tension of a long day. And of course it was one of them. He drew Hermione, Ron and Harry now and then in classes to keep himself in practice. But them... oh he knew their faces by heart.

Ginny's dark red hair that fell in something close to, but not quite, curls. Her freckled nose and dark searching eyes. He knew her every look. The way she held herself. The precise location of every freckle.

He knew almost everything there was to know about Ginny. What she liked, what she didn't like. Who she liked. Exactly what she wanted from a guy.

He knew what her best classes were and her worst. Her dreams and fears, nightmares and ambitions.

In sharp contrast, there stood Pansy. Unpredictable and impulsive. Her quick smirk. The way her pale hair fell around her face and eyes. Her pale, unreadable eyes.

He knew everything he could from Ginny. But Pansy was something else. He couldn't tell you anything about her. He was trying of course. Occasionally he could gleen enough information that he could put together a picture, but then she did something that shattered the image and made him all the more intrigued.

He glanced around the table, wondering who had found the sketch book. Not Hermione. In her helpful but embarrasing way, she would have announced to the entire school that she had found an unclaimed book. Not Harry. He would have thought it some grand conspiracy and set to solve it. Not Ron. He would have flipped out and unintentionally embarrassed his sister by declaring before the entire school that some pervert was lusting after his sister and that he would kill who ever owned up to owning the book.

Not Parvati, Lavender or Romilda. They would have gone off in a giggling fit and told Ginny about it.

He tried to think of who had detention in the Dungeons most, besides him.

Ginny had it reasonably frequently. Not her. She would be blushing right now if that was the case.

Luna. Not her either. She would have had flyers about the castle.

The Slytherins always had access to the Potions room. Not Malfoy. He would have found a way to trace it back by now and use it to embarrass him.

Blaise? Possible. He was an enigma. Hermione was fascinated by him of course, but that wasn't too surprising. She always liked those that she couldn't figure out.

Millicent? Crabbe? Goyle? Nah. The three were so fascinated with each other and food (Respectively) that he doubted they could see past that.

That only really left Pansy. He looked over at her only to meet her pale blue eyes head on.

(A/N: YOu probably all know who this is that's talking.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Possession is Nine Tenths...

Pansy flicked her long hair from her eyes with a toss of her head and tapped an impatient cadance on the book's cover with her fingers. It was her free break after dinner and she was spending her time in the library.

The library was quiet in the evening glow. She was sitting in the deep window sill that over looked the central courtyard. She loved this place. It was only in the library that she felt truly herself. Here she could be who she wanted to be. Here she could emerge herself in the world of her choice. Here no one had to tell her she couldn't do what she wanted.

She was Rapunzel. She stared from her tower as the would be suitors marched a hundred feet below, each trying to gain the courage to ask the fair maiden. She watched them and sighed. Someday. Someday he would come and rescue her. And they would see. They would see what they missed and they would writh in jealousy and...

"Mis Parkinson?"

Pansy snapped her head around at Madam Pince's voice, the day dream shattered. The ground was no longer littered with cowardly princes but dusted with late fall frost. Her love was not coming up the side of her tower but hiding in some corner with a sketch pad.

She smiled at the Librarian. "Sorry?"

"The Library is closing for the night. Were there any books you wanted?" Pince asked in her way that suggested such a thing was the only proper thing to do.

Pansy smiled prettily. "Just a moment."

She disappeared into the shelves, seeking out her favorite section. She pulled a tattered volume out and returned to the front desk. She laid the book down on the counter. She noticed Neville Longbottom was also there.

Pansy couldn't help herself. With in a few moments, her mind had twisted Neville a beautiful past. He was the son of a king, taken at birth and left for dead at three. But a family of witches found him. He was adopted and devastated when his 'parents' were killed before him.

Pansy was a poet at heart and twisted, dark pasts came as second nature to her.

Her own past was nothing spectacular. Her father had died in the first war. Pansy had no inclination towards the Dark Side. It had killed her father. She blamed Voldemort for it. He had seduced her father into that path and she wouldn't fall to such paltry tricks. Her mother had never been all that stable as long as pansy could remember. Probably had to do with her father's death.

Pansy shifted as Pince commented on her book.

"This has to be the eighth time you've gotten this one."

Pansy smiled. "I can't help it's good."

Pince shook her head and handed Pansy the Edgar Allen Poe book. She reached for it and moved it to join the sketch book across her chest. She noticed Neville's eyes flicker to her. He blushed and looked away. Pansy smiled. He must have been checking her out. True he was nothing spectacular, but it was always nice.

(A/N: Yeah! new chapter! (sighes) Sorry there were no updates yesterday. I was going to when I realized I didn't have any to go up!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The book is stolen

He swore at him self. How could he have been so stupid!? He must have left it in the Potions class the other night. Of course she would find it. Any one else that might have found it would have taken steps by now.

She was beautiful, standing there in Herbology. She was in advanced Herbology with him. She had surprised him when she took the class. He never knew her inclination to the class. But she was good.

Now she stood with her arms covered to her slim elbows with dark brown Dragon hide gloves. The gloves were large on her and she had to fix them every couple of minutes. Her liquid blonde hair, like strands of spun honey, was pulled severly back from her face. Her ears had an elfin point to the tips. She was concentrating on the plant before her.

She was pretty like that, her blue eyes dark with concentration. He couldn't help but watch her.

She had the book with her, lying among her others. Another notebook was there too, thinner but still a spiral notebook. He would have to make sure he didn't take that one when he took his back.

He walked over by her. Her eyes flickered from the plant she was doctering to him. She smiled slightly at him. He was genuinely shocked. Up until a few days ago she hadn't even registered his prescence. Now since she got the book, she had smiled at him twice in the past twenty four hours.

He was almost sorry he had to take back the book.

888

Pansy didn't realize it was missing til she got back to her common room that night. She had been planning on writing a story in her own book about one or more of the pictures when she got back to her room.

It was her fault, these fairy tale lands of hers. She loved them but she knew nothing would ever or could ever come of them. She still loved them and still wrote.

But when she sat down on her bed to start she got a shock. The sketch book was gone. She rifled through her bag, though she knew she never put it in there. SHe looked around her room, knowing again that it wasn't there. She collasped on her bed again.

Who could have gotten it?

Blaise sauntered into the room fixing the cuff on his jacket.

"Oh? Are you ready Pansy? Come, dinner's almost ready. It promises to be good."

"I'm not hungry."

"What? You not hungry? If they hadn't made vanilla pudding I might believe you."

Pansy felt her mouth water at the thought of her favorite food but forced herself to reply. "The whole world's against me. I won't go in there."

"Against you? Then you know not where you are."

Pansy threw an arm theatrically over her eyes. "Go away."

"Are you not well?"

"Yes!" She snapped. "Unless I'm secretly ill in the head."

"And that," he pointed at her, sitting on the edge of her bed. "I begin to doubt. I never knew your inclinations to pass up free vanilla pudding til now. At home I have seen you deck other members of the family when going back for seconds. At school I have seen you go to the kitchens late at night to satisfy your need. And have you gone chocolate on us?"

Despite herself, Pansy giggled. "I keep the same flavor, same devotion."

"Then what might be the cause."

"How violent you are."

"Is this violence?" He questioned. "Tis but Idleness compared with your haste yesterday. Yesterday you were all gungho to find this artist and now you sit and sigh."

"Fine." She sat up. "Who do you think is my artist?"

He actually thought about this. "Not you or Ginny. She doesn't swing that way and if she did, there would have been at least one picture of you and her together. Not Draco. He's a dear, but he's as artistically tallented as a mushroom."

Pansy giggled again. "Theodore? Crabbe? Goyle?"

He shook his head. "Theodore is a player. He has no time to woo a lady. Crabbe can't spell is own name. Goyle isn't too bad, but he's interested in more Millicent than anything else."

"What about the Hufflepuffs? The Ravenclaws?"

"Neither. THe Hufflepuffs may be loyal, but they would never dare something like this. The Ravenclaws are too clever to leave it some where."

"Which leaves us with the Gryffindors."

"Pretty much," he confirmed. He rose from the bed. "Come on, let's get dinner."

(A/N: The first half of Pansy and Blaise's conversation is a loose parody of the opening dialogue between Alesmaro and Jasperino in the Changeling. Don't feel bad if you haven't seen it. Few have.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Oh is there not one man...

Pansy rested her chin on her hand and scanned the faces of her classmates. Who could it be? There was only one way to do this. The Slytherin way.

She was going to have to steal some writing sample. She hadn't told Blaise or Draco (who was currently in some closet with a lovely spitfire though he would deny this of course) but near the middle of the book been a beautiful picture of her and Ginny standing beside each other with the words 'Which one?' written in elegant caligraphy there. The hand was almost feminine, but Pansy had stolen enough of Luna Lovegood's letters to Blaise to recognize the difference between a woman's hand and a man's.

So some boy out there was trying to decide between her and Ginny Weasley. But who? Her normal reaction would be to flirt shamelessly with all the boys. But for some reason she held off. She wasn't sure why but she wanted him to like her. Really like her. Like her more than Ginny. But she didn't just want to win. She wanted to have someone to call her own.

The next day, Pansy set up in the Slytherin common room. It was a sunday, so naturally everyone was lounging about the room, waiting for something to do. All eyes followed her as Pansy brought the box into the center of the room. With all the ease and carelessness that came of years of practice, Pansy opened the box and removed her paper. She made a show of counting it before smiling and seting it down on the table. She then pulled out her calligraphy pens. She had several sets, this set being her oldest and least favorite. She uncorked the bottle of ink and set to work.

She was barely halfway through her name when she aknowleged the boy standing before her. It was Joselin Tatham, a third year second generation French boy. His accent and his dark, captivating eyes would win him admirers before long, unless Pansy was wrong.

"Yes?"

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Calligraphy." She replied, returning to her letters. She knew Joselin wouldn't let it at that and had to hide a smile when he spoke up again.

"What's that?"

She tossed her hair out of her face. "It's like writing in cursive but much more elegant."

He watched her as she finished her name. "Can I try?"

She looked up at him. "It's awfully hard..."

"Yeah, right." Theodore Nott walked up and took the the pen gingerly from her fingers. "If a girl can do this, anyone can."

Soon there was a general consensus and all the boys were lined up to write their names. Pansy stepped back with a smile. Blaise materialized beside her. "I thought we established it wasn't a Slytherin."

She turned her smile to him. "I know, but it doesn't hurt. And besides, they're having fun."

He shook his head. "You're going soft."

Pansy refrained from mentioning his relationship with Luna Lovegood, the one that no one was supposed to know about.

"Any new ideas?" She asked instead.

He smiled. "What about a teacher?"

She choked. "A teacher? Who?" She caught the evil note that crept into his smile. "Surely you aren't seriously thinking of Snape?"

He shrugged. "Why not?"

"Come on! The man is twice my age!"

"Oh, but can't you just envision it? You've had a long harrowing day in classes and come back to your dorm room and there, lying prostrate on the bed in a pink silk teddy, is our esteemed professor." He paused and put on his best Snape drawl. "Miss Parkinson, do you want to play put the sorting hat on the Slytherin? Say yes, or I'll dock points."

Pansy laughed helplessly and tried to block the mental image she was getting of Snape. She would never look at her Potions Professor the same way again.

(A/N: This one goes out to everyone who laughed out loud at the image of Snape.

To Periwinkle- I aim to please! I'm glad you liked it. Neville may be a little bit of a wimp sometimes, but I think he shows his colors when he has to.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

In My Possession again

Pansy couldn't believe her good luck. She had been attending her duties as prefect (for once). It had been a long day. She had run into Snape a few hours ago and had left the encounter trying her damnest not to giggle. Snape hadn't said anything, but his look spoke volumes. Pansy didn't really care, the laughter that had bubbled in her stomach for the next hour had been worth it.

That night, Pansy's duties took her to the lower levels, near the kitchens. She shoved her hands into her pockets, walking up and down the halls. She glanced at her watch with a sigh. She only had to do this for three hours then she could at last go to sleep.

Her stomach rumbled. She had skipped dinner to help a first year with his potions. She really must be getting soft. True, he was a Slytherin, so it wasn't that bad. But sacrificing her personal time to help a lowly first year... she shook her head.

It was the sketchbook she decided. It was seven days since she had first found it and her life had taken an entire turn. She wanted to impress her unknown watcher. She had stopped openly ridiculing other houses and She no longer gave Draco a hard time when he came back from some closet with his hair tousled and smelling of cinnamon. She spent more time studying and actually became active in classes shared with other houses. Her teachers were surprised. She was Smart and she got good marks. But she had never actually displayed that in class.

Pansy felt her stomach growl again and winced. There was never any one down here. Why in heaven had Snape given her this area? No, she knew. Because Snape had to punish her somehow for missing all those sessions.

She sighed. Maybe... She was right down by the kitchen. She was still a Slytherin. And Blaise usually spent his rounds curled up with a certain blonde Ravenclaw.

Feeling a little guilty, but too hungry to care, she entered the kitchens. Instantly several house elves surrounded her. She smiled down at them.

"What cans we help yous with miss?" Asked a green one who wore several of the scarves and hats that Hermione left around the school.

"I'm afraid I missed dinner. Could I get a sandwich or something?"

The Elves fluttered around for a few moments, unsure exactly what to do in the face of such an obscure request.

"You have to tell them exactly what you want."

Pansy straightened and spun. Neville Longbottom sat at a table behind her.

He realized he must have spoken aloud, for he flushed. She walked over to him and sat down across from him.

"Why do you say that?"

He met her eyes. "Well, otherwise, they'll just make you every sandwich they know how to make until you tell them to stop."

She laughed at the idea but she knew it was pretty close to the truth. She turned back to the elves. "I'd like a roast beef and cheddar sandwich on rye bread with a dill pickle and chips, please."

The elves were delighted and scampered off. Pansy looked over at Neville as the elves gave her her sandwich.

"So what are you doing out here so late past curfew?" she chided.

He smiled. "I was finishing a project and missed dinner. Hermione let me come down here."

"Ah? Like Hermione, do we?" She asked around mouthfuls of the sandwich.

He laughed. "Nah, She's not my type."

"Who is your type?"

He grinned at her. "I'll let you know when I do."

Neville excused himself shortly after. Pansy finished her dinner and resolved herself to her rounds. She thought of asking Neville to come join her. He wasn't half bad, for a Gryffindor and she enjoyed having him around.

On her way out, something sitting on another table caught her eye. She gasped. It was the sketchbook.

(A/N: (grins) I'm gonna catch hell for this!

To Periwinkle: (grins) the whole point of that chapter was to get that image stuck in your head! You gotta admit it was amusing!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

A Decision revealed.

Pansy sat in the middle of the Slytherin Common room. As it had a mere three weeks ago, the sketchbook lay on the table before her. She was chewing her thumbnail.

It was silly to be afraid, but Pansy couldn't help the uncertainty. What would those creamy white pages reveal to her? Did her mysterious prince in shining armor prefer her? Was he still undecided?

Pansy growled at herself. It was almost two in the morning. If she didn't suck it up and get this over with, she would lose the rest of her night. As it was she could get in probably four or five hours easily. She reached out and flipped open the book. Once more she reached the blank page. For some reason she sighed. She wasn't sure why but for some reason she expected the words I chose Ginny to be blazened across the first page. Which was silly. Why would he do that?

She shook her head and turned the page. Once more she found herself staring at candid shots of herself and she had to smile. How much had it freaked her out that first time? To see herself the object of a contest.

One thing hadn't changed. She still didn't know who her admirer was.

She turned the next page once again regaled with images of herself. She continued on but paused at the Yule Ball picture of herself. Once more there were changes. She was smiling just so slightly.

She found herself smiling as well and hastily turned the page.

The page was folded in half. She started. Why on earth...? She flipped through some more. All the pages of Ginny were folded over. In fact there was only one picture of her left, the page with both of them on it. The words written there "Which One?" Had been crossed off and Pansy's picture had been circled.

Pansy felt her breath catch. She... she won? She beat Ginny? How? How was it possible?

She turned the page, hoping for some answer. There was another full scale picture of herself. She was leaning on a table or something, looking back at the illustrator. A half smile danced on her lips and her eyes were practically glittering with delight.

Pansy reached out trembling fingers to the image. Did she really look like that? Was she really that pretty? She felt her cheeks flush.

She continued turning the pages. More of her. Smiling halfway, looking bored. Looking amused.

Pansy wasn't aware she was crying until the first tear struck the page.

888

Pansy knew she probably looked terrible. She had spent the entire night crying to herself in the common room. She wasn't sure exactly why she had fallen so completly apart over the decision of her Prince Charming. But she wasn't really sad. She was happy. So very happy. Despite the fact that she had to look like crap, she felt so perfectly happy.

She supressed a yawn as she worked with the Mandrake. She was tired. No sleep would do that to you. She shot a glance at her partner Neville. She debated demanding that he finish the work but for some reason she couldn't. She smiled at herself. She was changing. She was liking who she saw in the mirror every morning.

Romilda Vane shot her a glance as she yawned again. "YOu look dreadful, Pansy."

Pansy felt her lips quirk in a humorless smile. "Thanks, Romie. You're such a pal."

Romilda rolled her eyes. "Ha ha. I just thought you would want to know. After all, Harry's back on the market."

Pansy smiled again. "Thanks. But I'm not interested."

Romilda stared at her and Pansy became suddenly and acutely aware that Neville was tense. Her first instinct was to offer a back massage but she quelled it. He was a good kid. She'd let him be.

"Why not?" Romilda asked.

"Because he's not a very good artist."

Romilda turned away snootily. Pansy yawned again.

"Um... Pansy?"

Pansy turned to Neville, pleased. She had asked him at the beginning of class to call her Pansy. She wasn't sure why she had insisted but she was delighted he took her up on it. "Yes?"

"Um... well, the thing is... I can handle this if... well if you want to take a cat nap."

Pansy stared at him for a moment. Then she smiled and leaned in to kiss his cheek. He flushed red.

"You spoil a girl, Neville." She said. "Thank you."

He smiled back at her, though his cheeks were still beet red.

888

Pansy received the letter with the evening post. She noticed absently that Ginny Weasley also received something, a small pink package with silver ribbons. She might not have even cared, but few people ever got anything with the evening post and Draco seemed unnaturally content when Ginny squealed delightedly at what ever she had received.

Pansy's prize came a few moments later, a simple trifolded letter. She unfolded it, curious.

There was a hasty but elegant sketch of her sleeping on her folded arms.

_I still think you look pretty_ her admirer had written.

For some reason, Pansy flushed and couldn't help a smile the rest of the night.

(A/N: Pansy's falling fast! This chapter had me smiling the whole time I wrote it! Oh, and yeah for more mentions of GD ;)


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Oh my hero

Pansy could stand it no more. She absolutely had to know who he was.

The decision was cemented a few hours ago. It was almost a week since she got the sketchbook back. Off and on over the past seven days she had received random images of her in the morning and evening post. Each had made her smile and feel like the world existed for her alone. Each made her want to dance with joy and solidified her decision to find her prince charming.

But the drawing that finally tore it came in the morning post. Pansy saw the simple trifolded letter coming towards her seat and felt her breath catch. She had come to enjoy this ritual.

She controlled herself before she snatched the letter from the air but took it gently when it came. FIngers trembling with desire, she unfolded the note. The parchment almost fell from her fingers.

It was another picture of her. This time it focused on her from the waist up. She was sitting and looking over her shoulder at something. She was smiling with what looked like laughter. She was dressed as a princess. Her short hair was done up beautifully with what looked like clasps of stars. But that wasn't all of it. Behind her someone was kissing her cheek. There wasn't much, obviously her artist hadn't put too much thought into putting himself in the picture. But it happened.

All through breakfast and Transfiguration, Pansy couldn't get the image out of her head. She needed to know.

If there is one thing that Slytherins are good at, it's coming up with plots. And Pansy was the queen.

She set about her plan in Potions with Gryffindor. She had more or less narrowed her feild down to the eleven boys in that class. It was childsplay to get partnered with Lavender Brown for the potion. After a Seven Sickle bribe and the copy of Witch Weekly that featured Viktor Krum, Lavender properly messed up their potion and managed to spill it on her. Pansy gave a sigh of mock regret as Lavender apologized. Snape dismissed her to change clothes.

While the class was focusing on Lavender's berating, Pansy slipped the sketchbook out of her bag and left it on her chair. Then she slipped into the shadows to wait.

The class went on. Neville was assigned to Lavender as partner. For reason she would not try to explain, Pansy wanted Neville to take the sketchbook. Neville did indeed notice the sketchbook. He picked it up. He did not turn to Lavender to ask her if it was hers. Rather he just smiled. He flipped it open, leafing through the pages. Lavender noticed this.

"What do you have there?"

"Oh, just someone's sketchbook. They must have left it behind last class."

Lavender leaned over and gasped at the images. "Wow! They're really good! Who do you think it belongs to?"

Neville just smiled, "I have a few ideas. Don't worry. I'll get it back to them."

Lavender continued to ooh and aah over the images and Pansy felt rage building. That was HER book. Those were HER drawings. How dare Lavender try to imagine he liked her?

Pansy was insanely pleased when Snape came over to berate Lavender.

888

He tucked the sketchbook into his bag, wondering over the final words she had scribbled there.

_Meet me in the Astronomy Tower._

Simple, to the point. below them was a time. No threats, no ultimatums. Nothing of the sort.

He ran into his old friend Luna on his way to dinner that night. She smiled dreamily at him.

"Where are you off to in such a rush?" she asked calmly.

He grinned at her. Luna was interested in a lot of things but food never seemed to make the list. He linked arms with her. "Off to dinner. I'm sure Blaise's going crazy looking for you."

Luna managed a blush. Not many people knew she and the African Sex God were seeing each other for anything more than extra Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons.

Sure enough, they found Blaise wandering around. He smiled at her, giving him a nod of thanks.

"Where have you been, kid?"

She smiled up at him, "Here and there."

Blaise wrapped an arm around Luna's shoulders and led her into the Great Hall, forgetting for a moment that their relationship was supposed to be a secret.

(A/N: Grins! Okay, only one more chapter left!

To MisSs005- (grins) Thank you!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Finally

Pansy paced the tower impatiently. Though it was after hours, the school was still buzzing with that scene at dinner. Who knew Blaise was so infatuated with Luna as to actually walk into the Great Hall with her like that? Not that Pansy minded. If her Prince was who she thought he was, it would make her relationship with him that much easier.

She spun around at the sound of footsteps. She smiled at the young man who entered the room.

"I knew it was you."

888

Neville smiled uncertainly at the girl he had long loved from afar.

"Hi, Pansy."

"Why didn't you say anything?" She asked quietly.

He laughed, "What would you have said?"

"I-"

"You might have taken me seriously. Or you might have just laughed at me."

Pansy sighed, "You're right. But not now. I've changed."

"I've noticed."

"Do... do you approve?"

"That shouldn't matter. You shouldn't change because you think I'll like you better. I liked you to begin with."

She sighed, "I know. I didn't change because I wanted to impress you. I changed because... well I took a long look at myself and realized I didn't know or like the girl I saw."

"So you changed."

"Yeah."

"How 'bout now? Are you happy wiht the girl you see now?"

Pansy felt her breath catch. "Only when I see her with you." She met his eyes, "You bring out everything in me that I've always wanted to be. I just never knew how to push aside what everyone else wanted of me and be the person I've always wanted to see in that mirror every morning."

Neville stepped forward, taking her chin as she started to cry. Wordlessly, he brought his lips to hers.

888

The sheet of parchment fluttered to the ground in front of the redheaded girl. Ginny stooped to retrieve it. She dusted the faint layer of snow from it and studied the image there. It was a drawing. She tilted her head, then looked up at the light that flickered in the Astronomy tower.

She smiled.

"What do you have there, Ginger?"

She turned to the blonde as he slid his arms around her.

"Who does this look like?"

He tilted his head. "Looks like Pansy and Longbottom. Why are they kissing?"

Ginny laughed, "You can be incredibly dense, Ice."

"But you love me, right?"

"Yes. Yes, Malfoy. I love you."

(A/N: Well there you go. I finally give you an active support of Ginny/Draco in this ship, as well as the kiss everyone has been waiting for. Come on, who didn't know it was Neville?


End file.
